After Acts 2:1-7
The sat quietly, talking
among themselves, murmurs
rising and falling until the time
came to replace the betrayer.
They cast lots; the lot falls
to the successor. And they continue
to meet, talking quietly, murmurs
rising and falling, waiting
for the promised helper to show
the way.
The twelve and others are
together that day, that
day of the wind and
tongues of flame, rushing
wind roaring with the voice
of heaven, the flaming
tongues resting on each
of them, filling them and
prompting a cacophony
of languages, each speaking
a tongue, flame filing voice,
empowering speech and
understanding, pulling
multitudes towards them,
amazing and astonishing
all with hearing speech
in their own tongue, not
just any speech but
the story of what was,
the story of what is, and
the story of what is to come.
Photograph by James Owen via Unsplash. Used with permission.
Some Sunday Readings
Men Have Forgotten God – Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn at The Imaginative Conservative.
Persecution: A Right Response? – Lee Hutchings at Gentle Reformation.
Zombie Paganism – Spencer Kalvan at The New Jerusalem.
We Stopped Catechising – T.M. Suffield at Nuakh.
Flannery’s Last Day – poem by Angela Alaimo O’Donnell at Rabbit Room Poetry.
1 comment:
What was, what is, what is to come . . .
Thanks for this one, Glynn - it's amazing!
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